


Cover Up Love's Alibi

by newyorktopaloalto



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/F, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 10:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17806496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/pseuds/newyorktopaloalto
Summary: T'Pol deems it necessary to have a logical discussion as to the future of her relationship with Hoshi Sato - she didn't expect the ensign's vehement disagreement.





	Cover Up Love's Alibi

**Author's Note:**

> Idea from ffa meme thread '100 words of _____.'
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own ENT, so please don't sue. Title from Blondie's [Call Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDJ0jFFkvjc). 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

“I am finding our assignations—increasingly illogical.” 

T'Pol watched as Sato looked up from where she had been slowly making her way down T'Pol's abdomen, one of her eyebrows raised in a motion that in any other situation, T'Pol would have found the preclusion to a stimulating physical event. 

“So you want me to stop?” Sato asked, turning back to nose at T'Pol's belly button, her tongue flicking out the slightest bit at the skin below it. 

“I am simply stating that our rendezvous' are becoming increasingly obvious to the rest of the bridge crew.” 

She reached her hand down, hesitated a moment, then threaded it through Sato's hair. Though T'Pol could not see it, she felt as though the grin on the ensign's face was prominent. 

“Is that necessarily a bad thing?” Sato replied, teasing down T'Pol's pajama bottoms with fingers that T'Pol had managed to find increasingly distracting when watching Sato man her console. 

“If you take into account our respective positions aboard the ship, both the Captain and Starfleet Command have cause for—” she cut herself off in a small gasp, lifting her hips as Sato quickly shucked down her shorts, “for concern.” 

“Uh-huh,” Sato agreed easily, parting T'Pol's thighs before feathering her fingers up and down, up and down the insides of them. “Do you think the concern is founded, Commander? Considering how long it actually took me to get you into bed and everything.” 

“What I believe,” she paused as Sato ducked down to nose her way up T'Pol's thigh in wake of her fingertips, “Ensign, is irrelevant. What others believe is—” 

Before T'Pol could continue, Sato's tongue flicked against her labial folds. For a moment she forgot what she was going to say, her attention shifted from erroneous argument to the physical sensation of warm breath against her clitoris, a nose bumping gently against her pubic hair, and fingertips skimming, teasing, up her abdomen to rest against the swell of the underside of her breasts. 

“I am quite certain, considering the disparity in our ranks, that issue will arise.” 

Sato hummed—the motion sent a vibration through T'Pol that she couldn't help but return, in way of a full-bodied shudder—and T'Pol's grip on Sato's hair tightened before she could regain her better control. 

“Then we'll continue on, yes?” Sato asked, one of her hands making its way back down T'Pol's front until it stroked, in little circles, around her clitoris. The 'just like we have been' was muffled due to the simple fact that her face was buried between T'Pol's thighs. 

T'Pol, increasingly distracted from the discussion of their relationship that she had been meaning to speak with Sato about—her reason for inviting the ensign to her quarters in the first place—couldn't help the fact that the gasp, high and a little breathy, was not at all conducive in conveying a more serious of demeanor. She felt as though that might have been Sato's goal; she was abnormally perceptive with regard to the more emotional of matters that T'Pol found herself imbued with. 

“After this mission we should—” She was cut off by Sato quickly moving her way up her body. T'Pol could taste herself on the sloppy kiss Sato had initiated. 

Two of Sato's quick fingers entered her, twisting themselves up so that the heel of her hand brushed against her clitoris on every upstroke. 

Fine, then. T'Pol could tell that Sato had no interest in talking about the matter further—she had the burgeoning suspicion that Sato wished their relationship could be more open than it currently was—and so who was she to continue to bring it up? As T'Pol's own hands snaked their way down and under Sato's undershirt, she felt the other woman gasp into her mouth; in a decisive pinch and twist of her own fingers to Sato's nipples, T'Pol managed to ratchet the gasp produced by her motions up to a more desperate notch. 

This was, indeed, a better way to pass their time together than embarking upon a conversation about the inevitable public nature of their relationship. 

“T'Pol.” Sato detached herself with a moan from both the kiss and T'Pol's body to straddle her and take off her shirt. T'Pol arched her hips up to grind herself into Sato's still-clothed lower half. 

“Take those off,” T'Pol said, her voice slightly more snap than she had intended it to be. Sato hastened to oblige—the almost reckless, definitely haphazard motion from the erstwhile fluidity that Sato usually exhibited in their liaisons, did more for T'Pol than she would admit to her lover. 

T'Pol then flipped Sato onto her back, who hit the bunk with a dull thud and a twinkle in her eye that denoted her pleasure at the reckless motion. 

“What do you desire for tonight?” T'Pol asked, exposing Sato's vaginal opening with three spread fingers, only to dip her fingertips of her other hand teasingly, slowly, into her. 

“I want you,” Sato gasped, and T'Pol watched as she brought one of her hands to her own breast, teasing and tweaking her nipple as she tried to thrust her hips into T'Pol's hand. It was easy enough, with her superior strength, to keep Sato in place by only taking away the hand holding Sato open and ready for T'Pol's visual appraisal—the woman could deny finding sexual gratification in the clinical motions T'Pol could make, but T'Pol could also easily choose to be more passionate if Sato's denials were actually based in truth. 

“You have me,” T'Pol answered, the placidity in her tone swept away by her biting at Sato's lips to get her to open her mouth. 

The kiss lingering and messy, Sato distracted enough by the slide of their mouths to not notice much else, T'Pol pointed three fingers together and thrust them into Sato. She set a quick pace, her own mouth swallowing the keening noise reverberating through it. A hand clutched at her neck, the grip tight enough for even T'Pol to derive a certain painful pleasure from, and another slid down to her waist, her lower back, to squeeze at her backside. She let Sato bring her hips up and against where her hand was still buried, now four fingers deep, into the ensign, and found her breath quickening as a leg further brought her hips against Sato's own. 

And then, surprisingly—and by the gasped 'oh my God' from Sato as she clenched down, hard, on T'Pol's fingers, a surprise to the human as well—Sato's back arched and T'Pol felt her vaginal muscles contacting, erratic, against where her fingers were now buried deep, thrusting in the tiny motions Sato's muscles easily let her. 

“Sorry, quick” Sato gasped as soon as they broke the harsh press of lips their kiss had become, “I didn't expect—” 

She cut herself off and watched, jaw hanging open slightly, as T'Pol let her fingers slide from Sato's body immediately into her own, her hitched breath and tiling hips the only sign that she found her own actions sexually gratifying. Sato hitched T'Pol up further then, until her hips were level with her ribcage. 

“Give me your hand,” Sato coaxed, taking T'Pol's wrist in her grip and bringing it up to her mouth to suck on T'Pol's fingers. 

“Go ahead.” The entreat was muffled by T'Pol's fingers, but she understood the gesture all the same. 

Riding Sato's chest with an increasing fervor—the ensign's fingers against her clitoris and her mouth against the pads of T'Pol's fingers—the rising crest of her impending orgasm made T'Pol's motions sloppier than usual. 

“Yes,” she gasped, crooking her fingers into Sato's mouth further, whose tongue was twining in the spaces between the digits with an audible sucking noise. 

T'Pol's knees boxed in Sato, her hips, she was sure, grinding out the very breath in her lungs. 

“Yes,” she hissed out again, the hand not currently in Sato's mouth making its way to pull relentlessly at her hair as she shuddered through what she knew to only be the first of at least two further orgasms of the night—Sato, while not traditionally insatiable, had always seemed that way in T'Pol's mind, and they were both well enough off in indulging their various perceptions of one another, sexual or otherwise. 

Sato hummed, content and most likely aroused, at T'Pol's orgasm, running her fingers through the slick on her chest as T'Pol watched, brain still a little off-line in her still diminishing sexual high. 

T'Pol, after a moment or two of harsh breathing, surged down to flick her tongue against where her fingers were still thrusting gently in and out of Sato's mouth. In return, Sato opened her mouth as wide as she could, their tongues flicking teasingly against one another as they continued to twine against, and through the crevices between, T'Pol's fingertips. 

And while it might have been increasingly risky to go about their assignations in the manner they had been, T'Pol also couldn't see herself giving this up—illogical and complicated as their situation was becoming.

“My goal for the night is to make you scream,” T'Pol stated idly as she pried both her tongue and her fingers from Sato's mouth. “And I would find it agreeable if you would attempt to do the same.” 

“My pleasure,” Sato agreed easily, the amused twitch of her lips making it more than logical for T'Pol to cover the motion with her own mouth. 

It turned out to be, like most nights, both of their pleasures.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo  
> feel free to contact me at newyorktopaloalto@mail.com


End file.
